No Longer a Gentleman (18 page)

Cassie woke with a smile the next morning, Grey’s golden head on her breast, and his arm around her waist. He’d done his generous, passionate best to separate her from her tormented memories, and he’d succeeded. She felt lighter and freer than she had since her childhood. The past couldn’t be altered, but now it felt more like … the past.

Their night hadn’t involved large amounts of sleep, but Cassie and Grey were both in a good mood for carefree roaming across London. The sun had even come out for them, which Cassie privately thought a good omen.

They set off early to nearby Covent Garden market. There they drank steaming hot tea and ate sweet buns from a stall while they watched carts of fresh foods rattle by to feed the city. The bustle was cheerful, the scents of vegetables and early flowers a pleasant contrast to the usual city smells. Spring was arriving, and the market grew steadily busier and brighter.

When they’d seen enough of the market, they boarded the plain carriage Kirkland had provided. The driver drove them west through the city by a twisting route that took the coach past many of London’s great landmarks, from churches and palaces to the quiet squares of wealthy residential Mayfair.

As he gazed at buildings lining the Strand, Grey said, “I’ve ridden or walked down here countless times, yet it seems new and wonderful all over again. The Strand reminds me that I’ve come home. I’ve always loved London.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place,” Cassie said with a smile. “I know a pleasant waterside tavern down in Chelsea. I thought we might dismiss the carriage and eat very English food at the tavern, then hire a boat to take us downriver again.”

“I like that idea.” He looked thoughtful. “I think I’ll ask the driver to take us past Costain House to see if the knocker’s up and my family is in town.”

“If they’re in residence, will you want to climb the steps and rap on the door?” she asked. “Return of the prodigal?”

His face shuttered. “Not yet.”

The knocker at Costain House wasn’t up, which spared Grey any second thoughts, but Cassie thought it was progress that he was interested in his parents’ whereabouts. After traveling through Mayfair, they headed down to Chelsea, where they consumed good British ale and hot meat pies with flaky crusts.

As Grey finished his third pie, he said, “If I had any doubts, this beef and onion pie would prove I’m home.” He brushed crumbs from his lap. “I’m looking forward to seeing the city from the water.”

“If you like, tomorrow we can go east to the Tower of London and the great shipping docks.” Cassie got to her feet, feeling full and satisfied. “What do you think of that skiff down there? The one painted yellow.”

“The boatman looks sober, and I like the cheerful color,” Grey replied. “Let’s see what outrageous amount he’ll try to charge us.”

The amount quoted was indeed outrageous, but it didn’t take long to bargain down to a rate that satisfied everyone. As the boat skimmed along the river, Grey said, “Much more comfortable than the last boat ride we took.”

“So true.” Cassie shuddered at the memory of their fraught journey across the channel. “Look, here comes a chicken boat!”

They sailed by a dinghy filled with cages of screeching, indignant chickens. A small red feather blew into Cassie’s hair. Grey removed it and tucked it in his pocket, saying playfully, “A token of my lady! I shall cherish this chicken feather forever.”

The comment dimmed Cassie’s mood a little as she wondered if he actually would keep the silly feather. Probably not. She didn’t think she’d leave many traces in his life. No matter. They were enjoying a lovely day now.

After the boatman set them off, they walked the rest of the way back to Exeter Street. As Cassie pulled out her key, Grey said, “I’m tired and looking forward to dinner and a quiet evening.”

She guessed that being around so many people had caused the fatigue. “You did well,” she said as she inserted the key in the lock. “You didn’t run screaming once.”

“Male pride is returning,” he explained. “The desire to run screaming is surpassed by my desire not to look like a complete coward in front of a lovely woman.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your gilded tongue has certainly recovered.”

They were both chuckling as they entered the foyer. The door that led to the drawing room on the right was open, and Cassie heard a familiar female voice inside. Pleased, she called, “Kiri, is that you?”

“Cassie!” Dark haired and stunning, Lady Kiri Lawford emerged from the drawing room and enveloped Cassie in a hug. “Since we’re going to the theater and were in the neighborhood, I decided to drop by some new perfumes for when you returned, but I didn’t expect to see you. I’m so glad you are safely home again!”

Cassie laughed and hugged her friend with care, since Kiri was dressed in a dashing green evening gown. “I am a woman of mystery, my movements never to be predicted.” Then she registered the fact that Kiri had said “we.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve cheated the devil again, Cassie,” a deep voice said.

Cassie looked over Kiri’s shoulder as a tall, powerfully built man entered the foyer from the drawing room. Damian Mackenzie was smiling and more than handsome in formal evening wear.

Cassie’s first reaction was pleasure. She always enjoyed Mackenzie, and it was hardly surprising to see him with his new wife.

Her second reaction was, Damnation! But it was too late for retreat. Mac’s gaze moved behind her and he stopped dead. “Ye gods, is that you, Wyndham?” he breathed. “Or am I hallucinating?”

Even without looking, Cassie sensed Grey tensing, but his voice was steady as he stepped forward. “It’s early in the evening for hallucinations, Mac.” He offered his hand. “So I think I must be real.”

Mackenzie’s face lit up. “Kirkland would never admit you were dead, and damned if he wasn’t right again.” Exuberantly he seized Grey’s hand in both of his. “I’ve never been so glad to be wrong in my life!”

Seeing Grey next to Mackenzie’s broad, athletic figure made Cassie realize how thin Grey still was. But he smiled with genuine pleasure as he shook Mac’s hand. “I’m rather pleased about it, too.” He bowed to Kiri. “And surely this magnificent creature is your wife, Ashton’s sister?”

“You’re as good at flattery as Mackenzie, Lord Wyndham.” Kiri’s shrewd gaze moved from Grey to Cassie. “You must be tired, so we won’t keep you with questions about what happened.” She glanced at her husband. “We need to be on our way to the theater. Cassie, may I call on you tomorrow to catch up on the gossip?”

“I’d love to see you, but not before midafternoon since we’ll be out earlier.” Cassie caught her friend’s gaze. “Don’t tell anyone we’re back.”

“So you’re not yet officially returned, Wyndham?” Mackenzie commented. “I imagine adjusting to London takes time after ten years abroad.”

“Especially after ten years in prison,” Grey said tersely. He and Cassie had discussed what he would say about his long absence, and he’d decided to keep the explanation as simple as possible. Kiri and Mac were in the inner circle who might be told more, but the details could wait.

“Then we’ll not speak of it until the miracle is official.” Mac hesitated. “Is there any single-sentence explanation you can give to assuage my curiosity?”

Grey’s mouth twisted. “I was a fool, and paid for it with ten years of my life.”

“Was a woman involved?” When Grey nodded, Mackenzie said, “Some night when we’re drunk enough, I’ll tell you how being foolish about a woman got me flogged, almost hanged, and tossed out of the army.”

Grey’s smile turned genuine. “Good to know I’m not alone in my foolishness.”

Kiri shot her husband a curious glance. Cassie had the sense that Kiri knew the story, but was surprised that Mac was willing to talk about it. Mackenzie must have guessed that sharing his failings would make his old friend feel better.

Mac laid his hand on the small of Kiri’s back to usher her out. “If there is anything I might do to ease your return, Wyndham, Cassie knows where to find me.”

When they were gone, Grey wrapped his arm around Cassie and drew her close. “Obviously this house is not as private as you and Kirkland thought. I wonder what old schoolmate will pop in next?”

“I didn’t give enough thought to the fact that this is a center for Kirkland’s work,” Cassie said apologetically. “I can’t think of any other old schoolmates who might appear, but that may be lack of imagination on my part.”

“Will Mackenzie or Lady Kiri tell others that I’ve returned from the dead?”

She shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. The first thing Kirkland’s agents learn is discretion.”

“That gorgeous creature Mac married is another agent?” Grey asked, surprised, as they headed up the stairs side by side. “For that matter, I didn’t know that Mackenzie dabbled in the murky undercurrents of intelligence work.”

“That wasn’t very discreet of me to reveal that,” Cassie said ruefully. “Though you would have figured it out quickly enough.”

“Lady Kiri was an unlikely visitor to a spy house,” Grey agreed. He was looking drained by the day’s activities.

“A pity so many people liked you,” she said as she opened the door. “It makes for very energetic celebrations of your return to life.”

Grey’s expression eased. “Mackenzie was always energetic. Rather like a large and likable puppy. Now that I see Mac again, I realize that there must have been more going on under his surface than I realized when I was a callow youth.”

“Isn’t that true for everyone?” She unfastened her cloak. “More under the surface than is visible?”

“Not me. I was entirely on the surface.” He hung their cloaks in his wardrobe. “No more substance than a sparrow.”

“Not a sparrow. A glittering golden finch.”

He laughed. “I am correctly classified. Thank you, Catherine.”

His brows drew together when he saw her shiver at his use of her real name. “I won’t call you Catherine if it bothers you. I’ve always thought it a lovely name, and it suits you. But if it calls up too much pain …”

“The name does call up deep feelings, but it’s not all pain.” She considered. “I wouldn’t want the whole world to call me Catherine, but I don’t mind if you do sometimes.”

“Very well, Catherine.” He brushed a kiss on her hair. “Cassandra. Cassie. The names suit different aspects of your personality.”

She narrowed her eyes and said mysteriously, “I am a spy, a woman of a thousand disguises. With whom will you sleep tonight?”

Laughing, he drew her into his arms. “All of you!”

Cassie and Grey were discussing a boat ride down to Greenwich when Kirkland appeared to ruin their breakfast. “What’s wrong?” Cassie asked as soon as she saw him.

“Am I that obvious?” he said tiredly.

Cassie’s “Yes” clashed with Grey’s “No.”

“I’m glad I can still mystify some people.” Kirkland accepted the cup of steaming tea that Cassie poured for him. After a deep swallow, he said, “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad news, Wyndham. I’ve just learned that your father is critically ill.”

Grey’s face paled. “At Summerhill?”

Kirkland nodded. “I don’t know any details, but … I’m told his life is despaired of. You might want to reconsider visiting your family as soon as possible.”

“I’ll go tomorrow. Can you arrange a carriage?”

“I’ll have one here first thing in the morning.”

Grey turned to Cassie, his gaze stark. “Will you come with me? I can’t manage this on my own.”

She gasped. “I can’t go with you to your family estate!”

Grey caught her hand. “Please, Cassie! I need you.”

“If you need support, take Kirkland.” Cassie shot a burning glance at the other man. Wyndham was supposed to be Kirkland’s project, not hers!

“It isn’t me he needs, Cassie. But you’ve already done more than enough.” Kirkland rose from the table. “I need to speak with the Powells, so I’ll leave the two of you to sort this out.”

“Tactful of Kirkland to let us argue in private,” Cassie said after the door closed. “But the answer is the same. Taking your mistress to your family home would be scandalous under any conditions, much less when your father may be dying.” Her mouth tightened. “Nor will anyone believe a man like you with a woman like me.”

Grey looked blank. “Why not?”

“Look at us! A gentleman and a washerwoman.” Furiously she stood and yanked on his arm, pulling him to his feet so they could see their reflections in the mirror above the sideboard. Grey was not only strikingly handsome, but in an aristocratic way. Cassie looked like an aging peasant, not fit to be even his servant. “Unattractive men with money can easily find a beautiful woman, but handsome men with money don’t choose plain, aging women.”

He studied their images in the mirror. “Strange. I see a fractured man who can barely manage day to day, and a woman with the heart of a lion and more beauty than she allows the world to see.”

She bit her lip, fighting an urge to weep. “You may believe that, but no one else will look at us as you do.”

Turning from the mirror to her, he said, “I agree that you can’t go as my mistress. That would be most improper. You must go as my fiancée.”

Cassie thought she was beyond shock, but at that, her jaw dropped. “I told Kirkland that you weren’t mad, but apparently I was wrong!”

He smiled. “When you’re better dressed, no one will question us being together.”

“But there isn’t time for new clothing!” she said with exasperation as she thought of her wardrobe. There wasn’t a single item suitable for wearing at a nobleman’s country estate. The plain dark clothing she kept here in London would have suited a middle-aged widow of modest means. Not a single garment could claim to be fashionable or flattering. “Old gowns from a rag shop will not turn me into a plausible fiancée and there’s time for nothing else.”

Ignoring her comment, he said earnestly, “You don’t have to marry me. Why on earth would you want to? Just pretend to be my intended bride for a week or two until I’ve come to terms with my family. Then you can end the engagement and return to London.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” She shook her head, her throat tight. “My family was not of your rank, but I was raised to be a lady. I was a child when that life ended. I’ve lived as a farm girl, a prisoner, a peddler, a spy, a dozen other things. I would be as out of place at your home as that washerwoman.”

“I don’t believe that,” he retorted. “You have played many roles convincingly, and this one you were born to. It will only be for a few days, a fortnight at most. I hate that you will be uncomfortable, but I know you can do this.”

Perhaps. But the idea of acting as a lady terrified her, and pretending to be Grey’s betrothed was even worse. “The risk is too great for you,” she argued. “What if I want to become a countess and claim that the betrothal is real? You’d either be stuck with me or caught in a dreadful scandal.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” His dark-edged eyes turned thoughtful. “Though I wouldn’t object if you held me to it. I just can’t imagine that you’d want to.”

Not want to marry him? Dear God, even thinking of the possibility muddled her mind. The fact that he still needed her so much that he was willing to obliquely suggest marriage was the wickedest temptation she’d ever known.

But if she took advantage of his present weakness, they’d both regret it. “It would be so much easier if you’d just trust your family, Grey,” she said, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “You don’t need a stranger at Summerhill at such a difficult time.”

“I don’t need a stranger, but I do need you, Cassie,” he said quietly. “And you promised not to leave me as long as I need you. I swear I’ll never ask anything of you again, but please come with me. You were right that it will be difficult with my father’s life in doubt. If … if the worst happens, a great deal of responsibility will come crashing down on me. I’m much less likely to break under the strain if you’re with me.”

She swore to herself, knowing that it had been a mistake to make such a sweeping promise. But she’d given him her word. Even if she hadn’t, she couldn’t abandon him now. “Very well, but I’ll need to find some fashionable clothing very quickly.”

A knock sounded on the door of the dining room. “Is it safe to come in?” Kirkland asked.

“Come in. The golden boy has prevailed again,” Cassie said tartly. “I’ll go with Wyndham to Summerhill.”

“I’m glad you’re willing,” Kirkland said, relieved. “Tomorrow, not today?”

Grey nodded. “We need time to get ready. Also, the extra day allows time for a message to be sent to my mother so she’ll know I’m coming. She can decide whether or not to tell my father. I wouldn’t want to kill him from shock.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Kirkland said. “What else can I do to help?”

“I’ll need some more of your clothing.” Grey grimaced. “Black. Just in case.”

Kirkland nodded. “What do you need, Cassie?”

“Can you take me to Kiri Mackenzie’s house when you leave?” Cassie asked. “She’s the most fashionable woman I know, and I’m praying she can render me respectable by tomorrow.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Grey shook his head. “I’m going for a long walk so I can think myself into the proper state of mind.”

Cassie’s brow furrowed. “Shall I go with you?”

His gaze was hooded. “No, you need a wardrobe and I … need to be alone.”

That made sense, given that they’d been together day and night since Castle Durand, but it felt strange not to be watching out for Grey. Kirkland, more pragmatic, pulled a sleek little pistol from under his coat and offered it to Grey. “I trust you remember how to use one of these?”

“I do.” Grey studied the weapon without enthusiasm. “I suppose I could use this if necessary, but the real purpose is that you’ll feel better knowing I’m armed.”

“Exactly right,” Kirkland said. “I’d also suggest a less expensive coat and hat.”

“Disguising myself even in my native land,” Grey murmured. He gave Cassie a swift kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

She said lightly, “Can’t I worry just a little?”

“If you find it entertaining.”

Watching him go, Cassie thought wryly that if he got himself killed in the streets, at least she wouldn’t have to go to Summerhill.

Impatiently Grey changed into a nondescript coat provided by Mr. Powell, added an equally shapeless hat, and headed east. He wanted to stretch his legs, see more of London. Pull his cracked self together so he could be the son who was needed at Summerhill.

And somewhere along the way, he wanted to find a good fight.

Cassie had never visited Mackenzie’s house, and it proved to be a handsome building right next door to his club, Damian’s. As she waited for a footman to announce her to Kiri, she studied the furnishings, seeing attractive Indian accents that must have been added by the new mistress of the house.

“Cassie, what a pleasure!” Lady Kiri swept into the entry hall and hugged her guest. “I was writing letters, very tedious. Much better to hear of your adventures!”

Cassie gave her bonnet and cloak to the footman and followed Kiri to the pleasant morning room, which included a desk with papers and pen. “Adventures can come later,” Cassie said. “First I must throw myself on your mercy, for I’m in dire need of your services.”

“Perfume? Of course.” Kiri settled gracefully into the chair by her desk and gestured for Cassie to sit opposite.

“Much more than perfume is required,” Cassie said grimly as she took the chair. “Tomorrow I must accompany Wyndham to his family seat in the guise of his betrothed, and I need to be transformed into someone whom he might plausibly wed.”

Kiri’s eyes widened. “You are to be a false fiancée? Why?”

Cassie explained tersely. When she was done, Kiri said, “This is a difficult mission for many reasons, yes? Because this time it is more than playacting.”

“You have put your finger on my uneasiness,” Cassie said slowly. “I am too involved with Wyndham for this to be easy. Also …” She looked down at her knotted fingers and realized she was feeling an anxiety very different from the straightforward fear of death or imprisonment that was a constant threat in France.

“Also … ?” Kiri prompted gently.

“For the first time, I must enter the world I was born to, but lost,” Cassie said haltingly. “I survived by accepting that that world was lost and moving forward, always forward. Now I must pretend to belong in that lost life, and the thought is … terrifying.” Her throat closed.

“I’m trying to imagine myself in your situation, and I can’t. But I see it would be deeply unnerving.” Kiri’s eyes narrowed. “Might this be easier if you look in the mirror and see a stranger instead of yourself? That would be more like playacting.”

“Perhaps.” Cassie bit her lip as she recognized another possibility. “I don’t want to lie to Grey’s family since he’ll have to live with them, so I should use my real name. That way if an old aunt asks about my family, I can give a real answer rather than make something up and possibly be caught out.”

Kiri noted her use of Grey’s personal name without comment. “I can have cards printed for you today so you’ll have them to support your role.”

“You can get cards made in a day?” Cassie asked incredulously.

“There are many advantages to being daughter and sister to a duke,” Kiri explained. “Here’s pencil and paper. Write down what the cards should say.”

Cassie wrote out her birth name for the first time in almost twenty years. “This feels strange. I am no longer Catherine St. Ives.”

“Part of you is, despite all that has happened. It may not be a bad thing to become better acquainted with Catherine.” Kiri’s brows arched when she saw what Cassie had written. “Next, appearance. Can that hair coloring you use be washed out? Not only is the color ugly, but it dulls your hair.”

“The color can be washed out with vinegar, but I don’t want to go to my natural color.” Cassie made a face. “It’s a violent red that was the bane of my childhood. I was happy to have a reason to dye it brown. I haven’t seen the original color since I was a child, and good riddance.”

The color had worn off when she was in prison. After her escape, she’d worn a head scarf and avoided mirrors until she could make and apply a batch of the coloring.

“If you wish to create a role that is not you, what better place to start than with Catherine St. Ives’s hair? It will have darkened over the years so it will be a less alarming shade of red now.” Kiri made a note on her list. “Clothing. You will need at least two good day dresses, another for evening wear, and a riding habit. Plus the undergarments and shoes and cloaks and other accessories.”

Cassie sighed. “Which will be impossible to obtain by tomorrow. At least, not clothing of the quality the role requires. Even more middling garments will be difficult on such short notice.”

“Nonsense. My sister, Lucia, is close to you in size. I shall ask her to send over several gowns she can spare that will suit your coloring. I shall also summon the splendid Madame Hélier, modiste for all the women in my family. She may have partially completed garments that would suit you, and she has seamstresses who can do quick alterations.” Kiri grinned. “This will be such fun!”

“I’ll wager you liked playing with dolls when you were a girl,” Cassie said dryly.

“Indeed I did. I turned them into beautiful warrior queens.”

Cassie had no trouble imagining that. “Like you? But I am neither beautiful nor a warrior queen.”

Kiri’s eyes gleamed. “You will be when I’m finished with you.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think coming here was a mistake.”

“I promise you’ll thank me for it later.” Kiri’s eyes narrowed. “Might you be ready to wear the perfume I created for you?”